


Not In The Job Description

by lamardeuse



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-19
Updated: 2010-05-19
Packaged: 2017-10-09 13:59:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/88225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lamardeuse/pseuds/lamardeuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John realized he was staring about a second and a half too late, and suddenly got really interested in his belt buckle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not In The Job Description

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Crys and her [cracktastic drawing](http://crysothemis.livejournal.com/60647.html).

“Remind me why we're doing this again?” John asked peevishly, as he stripped off his t-shirt.

Rodney snapped his fingers at him. “Valuable trading partners with possible access to ZPM creation technology, remember? Why aren't you naked yet?” Rodney bent down to pull off his sock, and then he straightened, letting it all hang out. John realized he was staring about a second and a half too late, and suddenly got really interested in his belt buckle.

Once the belt buckle was taken care of, John pointed at the door of the anteroom, beyond which Teyla and Ronon were waiting for them, along with half the population of M3R-917. “Why aren't they getting naked?”

“Because the priestess thought we were cuter,” Rodney said, shrugging, “which is just – insane, I know, but we're stuck with it. So.” Another finger snap, and then Rodney was striding along, his dick swinging unselfconsciously as he walked, and wow, _staring again_.

Rodney walked right up to him, close enough that John could smell the faint tang of his sweat, and reached for his zipper. “Hey, whoa, wait a minute,” John said, batting Rodney's hands away.

“We have to get out there,” Rodney complained.

“Yeah, okay. I've been undressing myself for a long time; I can handle it.”

It only seemed to hit Rodney right then what he'd been doing. His hands, which were still hovering around the vicinity of John's groin, dropped to his sides. “Right, yes. Well.” He pointed at the door. “I'll just – wait over there, then.”

“You do that,” John said, and only when Rodney actually followed through did he start on his pants.

  


    
    
    
    
 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

    
    
    
    
 

“Oh my _God_,” John snarled, as he felt the first brush of the tentacle against his knees. “Remind me – Jesus, this is just – why we're doing this again.”

“I _told _you already,” Rodney whined, and then he laughed, a high-pitched giggle John wouldn't have even thought he was capable of producing.

“You okay?”

“Ye-eh-eh-esss,” Rodney said, squirming as the tentacle wrapped around him. “I'm just – it's very –”

“Creepy? Unnatural?” John said, squirming a little now himself. The tentacle had wrapped twice around his body now, and was heading for his dick. Oh man, this was the _worst mission ever_.

“Shh! It might understand you!”

The tentacle reached his groin and slid along his skin with surprising gentleness. Thank God this thing didn't have suckers. “I don't think it has a really big vocabulary, Rodney,” John hissed.

“Well, it's an _intelligent _squid.”

“Oh, please,” scoffed John. The tentacle poked him in the ribs. “Hey!”

“You see? I told you!” Another burst of giggles. John peered around the squid's body and saw that the, uh, end (Foot? Big toe?) of the tentacle had reached Rodney's left nipple. Rodney's eyes were closed and his mouth was open, and he looked kind of out of it.

Okay, John wasn't gonna think about that. Instead, he tried concentrating on the priestess, who was positioned on an altar at one end of the large, rectangular indoor tank that held John, Rodney and the Sacred Squid of the People. John was grateful at least that the people only got to see the tank from above, but this was definitely turning into one of the most surreal rituals he'd ever participated in, and that counted the Biannual Yak Shearing, Square Dance and Barbecue of M8G-772.

The priestess was talking about the great gift of the squid, and its long and distinguished history as a protector and benefactor of their culture, although how letting it feel up strangers could be called part of a 'distinguished history' was a mystery to John. Her voice rose as she got more and more excited, recounting tales of the squid's awesome power. And then the squid tightened its hold, just slightly, and John's whole body went taut. Christ, this was just _stupid_: he was chest-deep in water, and he was one step away from being strangled by a squid, and this had definitely _not _been in the job description when he'd signed up for the Air Force –

And then he wasn't chest-deep in water any more, and his feet weren't touching the floor of the tank because the squid was, Jesus, _lifting _him higher, into the air, and –

“Oh my God, this feels weird,” Rodney yelled, above the cheering crowd.

“Yeah? Well, I'm here to tell you we are officially way past weird, Rodney! We just zoomed right by bizarre, and we're coming up on _seriously batshit_, and – ”

And suddenly, Rodney laughed. He _laughed, _the bastard was laughing, loud and free, like a kid. John had never heard him sound like a kid before, and his mouth snapped shut, because he wanted to hear that.

He saw Rodney's head pop up above the top of the squid's blue-spotted head as the thing lifted him higher, and he was looking right at John, his grin so wide it looked like it was going to split his face in half. “This is nuts!” Rodney shouted, but he didn't sound the least bit put out by it, and suddenly John thought, _why don't you lighten up already_, because hey, nobody was shooting at them, and they were naked and in the arms of a giant squid.

What the hell, he thought, and started laughing himself.

  


    
    
    
    
 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

    
    
    
    
 

  
They were still laughing as they stumbled back into the anteroom, dripping and shivering and not giving a damn.

“Oh, my God,” Rodney said, bumping against his shoulder as John turned to close the door, “that was – surprisingly fun.”

John grinned and bumped him back before he realized hey, they were still totally naked. “Uh, well,” he said, suddenly self-conscious, “I guess we'd better – ”

“Yeah,” Rodney said, and okay, how had he gotten so close? – “I guess we'd, um,” and then his lips were on John's, soft and clinging and sweet and _oh_.

John had to break away when his teeth started chattering. Rodney looked into his eyes, concerned, then blurted, “You looked. Earlier, I mean. I wasn't imagining it, right? Tell me I – oh God, tell me I wasn't wrong so I don't have to eviscerate myself – ”

“Rodney, Rodney, hey,” John said, reaching out and rubbing Rodney's upper arms rapidly with his open palms, because he was shivering, too, “you were right, okay? Relax.”

“Okay,” Rodney said, smiling shyly now. John noticed his lips were starting to turn a little blue, so he tried to be helpful there, too, snaking an arm around Rodney's neck and pulling him close.

“Oh,” Rodney said when John let him go reluctantly, his gaze warming John from the inside, “really, best mission ever.”

“Yeah,” John agreed. “I'll take this over yak shearing any day.”

**Author's Note:**

> First published January 2008.


End file.
